


A blue moon

by milky_toast_06



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Arguments, Childhood Friends, Crying, Disappointment, Divorce, Fights, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Kenma, Kenma is sad, Kuroken friendship - Freeform, Kuroo - Freeform, Leaving, Moving House, Neighbours, Sad, They have a platonic relationship, kenmas parents have a divorce, mentions of divorce, move, moving home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27617480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milky_toast_06/pseuds/milky_toast_06
Summary: Kenma's family falls apart, and he has to move. The thought of him leaving his home, his father, and Kuroo behind, in the neighbourhood overwhelms him, and reality all comes crashing down. He'd originally thought he could handle this with his normal plain and indifferent facade, but can he? Can he really?Then he realises. No. No he can't.
Kudos: 11





	A blue moon

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if this representation of a divorce differs from your experience, but this is based off...me? in a sense? Not that I'm married, but like yeah.

“Think about Kenma, think about the child you’re leaving behind!”

“Leaving behind? I’m taking him with me! Do you really believe that i’m going to leave my child in your care? Please, I didn’t raise him all these years just to abandon him now. He’s coming with me.”

“With you? You can hardly support yourself, and you want to support another being? Stop being so selfish all the time!”

“Selfish? Me? I’m the one working in this family! The only reason we’re not living on the goddamn streets is because I'm paying for all your expenses!”

There it was again. The same old fights every day, the same old threats about splitting up and bringing Kenma along with either of them, the same pointless and endless arguments, down in the living room, where the two parents had thought all along their precious son had been asleep. How long had it been now, since the arguments had started? 

Kenma didn’t bother putting in effort to count and recall. The shouting and yelling in the house had been almost a routine for as long as he could remember, and finding the day or week when it all started was like hell. 

He glued his eyes to the screen, forcing his concentration on the game and away from the sounds of vases shattering outside the door. 

It was noisy, yes, and annoying, but Kenma had learnt to live with it. Besides, he preferred to ignore it than confront his parents. He wasn’t even sure if his parents were aware that he’d heard and listened in on their arguments before, and asking them about it out of the blue was sure to cause some tension between the three of them. 

His fingers flew over the console in his hands. He’d bought all his games by finding some part-time jobs that didn’t require much effort. His parents knew about it...or at least he hoped so. Kenma knew there was a possibility his parents weren’t even in the know about his jobs, seeing how little they even so much as communicated.

“That’s it, i’m filing for a divorce. Take the house, I don't care. That’s what you want at the end of the day isn’t it? Take it! I’ve had enough of you.”

“What do you mean? You can’t be so--”

“I’ll wake Kenma up now and tell him about it. We’re leaving the following morning and i’ll stay at a friend’s house till i find another place to live.”

Kenma heard a slap, and he could only assume it was for his father. It was loud, and resonated throughout the entire house; he could hear it even through his max-ed volume headset. 

Kenma paused, waiting to hear his mother’s footsteps coming up to his room. Silently, he set down his headphones, and switched off his games. Facing the lightless screen of the computer, he saw his mother coming into his room through the reflection.

“O-oh Kenma! You've been awake all this while? O-oh I...uhm..." His mother sighed, then pinched the area between her eyebrows. "Kenma, dear...pack your bags. We’re gonna move out the following morning so do get ready.”

Even on the black screen, he could see the kind expression his mother carried on her face when talking to him. He didn’t turn around to face her. He’d been expecting this for a while now.

“Why...are we leaving? Are you and Dad having a divorce?”

“Yes, son...we just, can’t agree on some things, and this is the best for all of us.” His mother never once badmouthed his father in front of him before, and Kenma really wished she did. 

“Yeah okay. I’ll pack by tomorrow.”

His mother smiled, then softly shut the door after herself, leaving Kenma in his room alone, dark and quiet. 

He sat there, motionless. Not a single word left his lips, and he couldn’t find in himself the strength to move. A divorce? After all the arguments...this was all it had boiled down to? 

The game before him was forgotten. All this time, Kenma had never once considered the idea of intervening whenever the fights got violent. He’d always distracted himself with the bright colourful screen of games and entertainment. 

Now his parents were getting a divorce, and it was all his fault. He looked around the room and sighed. He was going to leave this home in just two days. Could he really bear to do it? Leaving behind his entire childhood? Leaving behind Kuroo? His own father? 

Could he really leave behind this place, still maintaining his indifferent and careless attitude? Could he? 

No, he realised. No he couldn't. He cried, tears falling harder as he remembered all the times he’d run over to Kuroo’s house when the fights really became too loud for him. All the times his father and mother pretended to love each other in front of him. All the times he’d been a coward, choosing to watch everything unfold before him without even speaking up once. 

His parents were getting a divorce, and it was all his fault. 

His game screen lit up, perhaps because Kenma hadn’t shut it down properly before, but this time, he impulsively removed the game cartridge from the computer. Stuffing the cartridge into his pocket, he shoved the computer off the table. 

There was a loud crash, followed by the sound of cracking glass. He looked at the ground, where the computer lay broken, the screen projecting a multitude of colours. Bits of glass were scattered across the floor and some on his bed. 

He had the peace of mind to lock his door, before anyone came in. Clutching his phone tightly in his hand, he hurled it out of the open window. It fell down to the ground from his two-story home with a relatively loud thud. That was probably broken too.

Crying, he swept everything off his desk; books, papers, pens. His room was a wreck. He dove into his pillow on his bed and yelled into it in frustration. He sat up, and pounded the bed sheet as hard as he could. Stupid. He had been so stupid. He'd been a stupid, idiotic, goddamn moron. Getting up, he curled his hands into fists and punched the wall with all of his strength. It hurt. Yes it did. It hurt, but really, it didn't hurt as bad as knowing that _he_ was the reason behind the divorce. 

His breathing grew slightly erratic, and he had to catch his breath a little. His hands fumbled around for something to support him. Getting angry made him unbelievably dizzy. He plopped down in his chair with his knees on the seat, then buried his head between his hands, hastily wiping away his tears as they fell.

It was all his fault. Everything was his fault. His parents' divorcing was his fault. Him having to leave behind his home was his fault. 

He could hear footsteps coming towards his room, then stop right outside the door. Blinking away his tears, he ignored the person, whoever it was, outside his room. Once he saw the shadow at the door disappear, he got up and walked to his windowsill. He swung his legs over, his crying now less intense, and he looked out. Crying was dumb, so Kenma tried not to partake in such a useless activity, but he gave in once in a blue moon. 

Sitting down, he stared at the moon. He knew what Kuroo would’ve said: _“You shouldn’t be crying today; the moon isn’t blue.”_ Kenma felt a little comforted by the thought, and he smiled, momentarily forgetting the cause of his sadness...and the phone on the grass that lay broken. 

“Oi Kenma! What do you think you’re doing? Get off that windowsill!” Startled, Kenma almost fell off the ledge. He caught himself just in time, and he sighed. It’d felt scarily much like a heart attack.

“If i actually fell off, it’d have been because of you shouting,” Kenma muttered, then looked away for a second, letting his tears dry up. 

When he looked back down, he saw Kuroo grabbing on to the protruding brick of his home, climbing up the wall. Kenma frowned, already guessing what Kuroo was doing, but he asked anyway. 

“What are you doing now?”

“Climbing up. What else does it look like Kenma?” Kuroo said half-heartedly, more of his focus on whether he should grab the brick beside him or just jump up and hope to catch the ledge upon which Kenma was sitting.

He chose the second option, making Kenma yelp in surprise. Kuroo was panting, as any normal person would after attempting a totally dumb, reckless, and dangerous stunt. 

Kuroo looked inside Kenma’s room, but the neither or them said a word. Instead, Kenma looked down, willing himself not to begin crying again.

Then Kuroo said the words Kenma had played in his head.

“You shouldn’t be crying today; the moon isn’t blue.”

Kenma stifled a laugh, and nudged Kuroo roughly with his elbow. Smiling, Kuroo got up, and crawled into his room.

“There's glass on the floor, so watch out for that. The chair’s fine though.” Kenma didn’t turn around when he spoke. All he got from Kuroo was a grunt, followed by a hiss, perfectly showing Kenma that he’d obviously not taken into account Kenma’s warning.

After about a minute or so, Kuroo returned to the windowsill where he sat once more. Their shoulders touched, but Kenma didn’t move away. Instead, he rested his head on Kuroo’s, eyes still looking out.

“So...I saw your phone on the ground downstairs...and what’s with the mess in your room?”

“It’s always been messy, Kuroo,” Kenma mumbled, ignoring the part about his phone.

“Yeah but especially so today.” A short span of silence followed after. “Was the final boss level of your game too difficult?”

Kenma could hardly stop himself from rolling his eyes. Even if the final boss level of his game was difficult, he would never have made such a huge mess because of it.“I broke it, Kuroo. I broke the computer.”

“Even the cartridges?” There was shock in Kuroo’s voice, and Kenma could hardly blame him. Even Kenma was surprised at how much damage he could cause when he was in a frenzy.

“I kept the cartridges in my pocket...I thought i may need it next time...if i buy a new computer.” Kenma reached into his pocket and took out the cartridge from the game he’d been playing, then clutched it tightly in his hands.

“It’s not a game this time Kuroo. I’m moving.”

“You’re moving? Why didn’t you tell me?” The hurt was evident in Kuroo’s voice, but the older boy sighed anyway. “Well it’s fine. I wouldn’t have expected you to tell me anyway, until i found out on my own.”

“I only just received the news, okay Kuroo? It’s not like i would hide this kind of stuff from you.” Kuroo, whether he knew it or not, was really capable of getting Kenma riled up. Kenma breathed in, then breathed out. “Mum and Dad are getting a divorce.”

Kuroo waited for Kenma to explain on his own. “We’re moving two days from now. At least it’s conclusive this time. After all the fights and arguments and all the times I'd run to your house in the middle of the night...I'm happy I'm finally getting closure to this.”

It was probably obvious that Kenma was lying, to both Kuroo and himself. His crying had begun once again, and he hid his face behind his hair.

“You should get to packing soon, shouldn’t you?” Kuroo got up, lending a hand to Kenma, one which he took reluctantly.

Kenma led Kuroo to his closet, and the two of them, carefully avoiding the glass, switched on the lights. 

Now that the room was well-lit, Kenma truly realised what he’d done. Everything was strewn across the floor, and it was a miracle Kuroo’s feet weren't a bloody mess. They started first by pushing the glass to the side, then they slowly took out Kenma’s clothes, laying it on the bed.

They got to folding his clothes. Kuroo was terrible at it, but so was Kenma, so neither complained much, with the exception of Kuroo’s occasional “your clothes just unfolded, Kenma”. 

Why was Kuroo so calm about Kenma moving home? Shouldn’t Kuroo have been objecting it? Did Kuroo not want him here either?

He pushed away the thought. He couldn’t be so stupid. He watched silently as Kuroo mumbled about something under his breath while putting into Kenma’s luggage a set of fold clothes. 

That was one of the few times Kenma and Kuroo had ever sat in silence. Usually, Kuroo would be the one talking and making conversation.

“Kuroo...why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Don’t be dumb. If you have something to say, just say it.” Kuroo still remained quiet.

“Say something.” Kenma felt himself almost losing control of himself. When Kuroo kept silent, Kenma started shouting, the emotions he was so confused about getting the better of him.

“Say something, please! What’s wrong with me wanting you to just say something? I just...I don’t want…” 

Kuroo set down the clothes he’d been folding. “Kenma…”

Kenma took his pillow into his hands and began to hit Kuroo with it. As hard and as violently as he could. All the unspoken feelings, all the emotions he didn’t know how to put into words, all the regrets and confused feelings he never talked about...he poured all of that into his actions. “Say something! Tell me something! Anything! I don’t care anymore! I don’t want to leave things like this!”

Kuroo let Kenma hit him, not a single complaint leaving his lips. Kuroo didn’t even raise his hands to defend himself. Kenma was never this expressive, and he had to be hurting a lot to get this worked up. 

“You can’t leave me like this! Please! Kuroo! W-why aren’t y-you saying anything…” Kenma stopped, his hands in midair, and he crumpled to the ground, his entire being shaking with sobs. 

Kuroo eyed him from where he sat, then climbed down from the bed to give Kenma a hug. At this, at the thought that this was going to be one of the last times they could meet here, and hug, at the thought that this was it, that he was going to lose Kuroo forever after this, Kenma cried.

And he cried hard. His voice was cracking and his sobs got louder and louder. Kenma impulsively wrapped his arms tightly around Kuroo’s body and cried into his shoulder. 

Kuroo held him while cries tore through Kenma’s body. The unfamiliar sound from the usually quiet and reserved boy had certainly stunned him, despite knowing him from a young age. Kuroo raised his hand to pat Kenma comfortingly on the head.

Kenma was gasping and crying and his breath was shuddering and he was all in all, an absolute mess. His hair was sticking to his neck, some to his face, and his eyes felt like they could soon be stuck together by his dried tears. Kenma’s face crumpled just at the feeling of Kuroo’s hands on his head.

“Sorry for not saying anything. You just looked like you really needed to let it all out,” Kuroo apologised. Kenma pulled away from the embrace, and looked Kuroo in the eye. Kenma’s eyes were bloodshot, and his nose was a swollen shade of red, lips parted slightly.

“I shouldn’t have hit you like that. That was my fault.” Kenma looked at the wet spot his tears had left on Kuroo’s sweater and looked away. “And I'm sorry about your sweater.”

“I’m stronger than that. A few beatings from a pillow could hardly do me any damage.” Kuroo said gently and laughed, then playfully hit Kenma’s shoulder. 

They got back to folding the rest of Kenma’s clothes, but this time, Kuroo was more willing to talk. He talked about volleyball, nationals, the team, and school...pretty much everything in between, finally getting a smile from Kenma.

Kuroo got up, taking an old shirt Kenma wanted to dispose of, and began sweeping up the shards of glass on the ground. When Kenma offered to help, Kuroo shut him down, telling him to just stay seated and that it was dangerous.

“So...are you ready to tell me more about it?” Kuroo probed. Unlike what many people thought, Kuroo could actually be pretty sensitive when the situation called for it.

“Yeah, i think so.” Kenma picked at his fingernails. "To be honest, I have this divorce thing more than I thought, so yeah. I was surprised too...and I didn't know what to do about it so I pretended not to care but it sucks. This whole shit really sucks, and you probably aren't asking for me to tell you how much this shit sucks so I'll just explain this whole thing to you, as factually as I can."

Well, I think you know about my parents fighting, but basically my father doesn’t work, so it stresses my mum out a lot, since she’s the one working to support the entire family. 

I guess i should hate my father, but...i can’t. He does do his part, I suppose, by doing chores and stuff but he still has a lot of free time, which could be put to working to lessen my mum’s burden, but he doesn’t want to.”

Kenma laughed, but it held no trace of humour. Kuroo just continued to sweep the glass away. There was a surprising amount of glass from that one broken computer screen. “Then again, i can’t say much because i’m not exactly _not_ lazy, but do my part. I take on part-time jobs to pay for my own wants so my mum won’t have to care about my selfish desires.”

“Wait, you have a job?” Kuroo’s head snapped up. Kenma tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

“Yeah, the night shifts, because those have more pay. It’s at the restaurant down the street.”

“That’s why you always told us the food there was trash whenever the team and I suggested going there for supper right?” Kuroo asked, his eyes already telling Kenma he knew the answer.

Still, Kenma nodded. “Yeah. Anyway…” He sighed.

“Just lately my father has been reluctant to even do any chores, so he’s been sleeping in and staying out late. My mum got really agitated and a lot of furniture has been broken, mostly from throwing it around, but I don't blame her. It kinda pisses me off as well that my father’s such a pain but--yeah.

I don’t believe that my mum is really actually violent though. Every once in a while, even she would lose her cool. I don’t even know if my parents know about my job, and that I know about their fights. I’d been a stupid, irresponsible child who’d chosen to distract himself from all this...so in other words, i really am the cause of this divorce.”

Kuroo scooped up all the glass, and tossed it carelessly out of the window. Putting aside the fact that he'd just told Kuroo his entire story, Kenma pointed out:

“That’s littering, Kuroo.”

“I just realised,” Kuroo said, his face suddenly gone pale. “Oh god I hope it didn’t fall on anyone.”

Kenma shrugged.

“Well anyway," Kuroo turned to Kenma, hands on his hips. "What do you mean you’re the cause of the divorce? That’s plain stupid, even for me Kenma. Do you really think you could’ve stopped your parents from fighting? You think you could prevent them from _disagreeing_?”

Kenma fiddled with his fingertips. “I mean-”

“No you couldn’t, and you still can’t. Because their arguments aren’t because of you. They don’t argue because of you; they argue because of _them._ Hate to break it to you, but you couldn’t have done shit.”

“I know…” Kenma looked at Kuroo, all his doubts disappearing in an instant. Kenma didn’t know what it was about Kuroo, but something about him just made Kenma feel safe, no matter the situation, and this time was no different. 

“Thanks.” Kenma paused. “For helping me. And for all this i guess.”

“Hm? Sure. I can’t just let my childhood buddy be suffering like that now can i?”

“Childhood buddy?” Kenma scoffed. “As if.”

“You love me and you know it.”

“No, I don't.”

“You do.”

“Not.”

“Do.”

There was a momentary silence, giving Kuroo the impression that he’d won.

“...not.”

“Do!”

“Not!”

Kuroo sighed. Kenma was one stubborn mule, but he was going to leave anyway, so Kuroo let it slide.

“I’m gonna miss you, Kenma. It was fun having you here with me so we could play volleyball," Kuroo looked like he was at a loss for words, but he went on. "I know we may still meet in school if you’re not switching school, but yeah. It wouldn’t be the same.”

“Yeah sure.”

“Come on! At least say you’ll miss me back!”

Kenma put aside his facade, ignoring the nagging thought at the back of his head, screaming at him not to.

“I’ll miss you, Kuroo.” Kuroo smiled, a little sadness shining through his eyes, reflecting in the light of the moon.

“I’ll miss you, and i’ll miss this place. And if I really end up switching schools, I'll come back to visit the team. Sometimes.”

Then the most unexpected thing happened. Kuroo’s eyes began to water, and a few tears fell. Kenma hit him.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Seeing that Kuroo didn’t stop crying, Kenma walked towards him, and pressed his beloved game cartridge into Kuroo’s hand. The one he’d saved amidst his rage and anger, amidst his oh so crazy display of madness.

Kenma decided to step up, and say the words Kuroo said. The words that had comforted Kenma, and the words that had allowed him to momentarily forget all his worries. With a soft smile, he awkwardly drew Kuroo in for a hug.

“You shouldn’t be crying today; the moon isn’t blue.”

  
  



End file.
